InsaneJournal

FIC: Stumbling Forward- 1/2


title: Stumbling Forward
author: lisa roquin
rating: adult
fandom: Bandom/MCR (AU)
series/sequel: Just Frankie Verse
characters/pairings: gen, ensamble, Frankie centric
summary: Mikey's moments of strange are keeping apace with Gerard's spiral, Pelissier can be counted on for curtain call and bus call and that's about it, Frank's carefully constructed walls of denial and avoidance are slowly crumbling.
disclaimer: completely. totally. *FICTION*
warning: gender issues, alcohol and substance abuse issues, sexual discussion, sexual situations, mild violence.
author's note: despite moments of crudity, blatant foot-in-mouth and less than PC, or even fit to say in front of your mother, comments from the characters, the subject matter is not taken lightly, nor am I the most confident in my ability to get this particular story to read "right" or even remotely non-awful. An experiment to see if I can write this remotely decent.
wordcount: 11,800+




They have a bus. They have techs and a crew and merch. They also have some serious fucking problems because Gerard is getting further out of control. Pelissier doesn't seem to give a fuck beyond free booze and choice of bimbos. Mikey's moments of quiet and strange, or just plain strange kind of follow proportionately with Gerard's spiral.

Matt Cortez is Frank's tech, and good god the man is a fucking porn addict. To the point Frank doesn't know if it's comical or scary or what. He' knows his shit though and overall is pretty fucking cool.

"How can you not get just totally fucking bored with that shit?" Frank asked shaking his head. The bus was stuck...somewhere. Waiting on something. Frank had lost track. It was cold and rainy and where ever the hell they were it wasn't vaguely remarkable enough for someone to know there might be something interesting to go explore then it wasn't worth getting off the buses. Besides that, Pelissier was AWOL (okay, claiming to make his own way to the next venue for whatever reason but everyone was considering that AWOL til they saw him again because, yeah) Cortez was still with them from the night before when he'd hit their bus at check and hopped on.

The couch is full--Cortez, Ray, Mikey and Gee. Frank dropped himself in Gerard's lap and rolled his eyes at the uncoordinated shift and slight blush. Because the somewhat drunken move meant to keep Frank from noticing Gerard's appreciation of the porn, pretty much did the exact opposite.

"Dude," Cortez said, looking mildly insulted.

"Dude. She's totally figuring out what bills she's paying with the money she's getting paid and mentally writing her grocery list. If my girlfriend looked that fucking bored and stoned in bed I think I'd shoot myself."

Ray gives Frank one of his puzzled looks, like whatever he had figured out was now wrong. Frank had caught them increasingly, along with Ray's careful watching, so yeah. Frank probably should find a way to put Ray out of his confusion, because things were fucked up enough, and Ray didn't need the extra strain of worrying Frank was going to be the next to fall apart or something stupid. You have to be somewhat together to fall apart, and Frank wasn't, well not when it came to some things which were pretty much shoved away and ignored in the place of being able to play, and tour and shit. Yeah. Ray was really looking.

"GROCERY LIST?" Cortez finally stopped spluttering to spit out a coherent word, words, whatever.

"Well, Frank would probably know," Mikey said tilting his head consideringly at the moaning naked woman on the screen.

Frank leaned past Cortez and whacked Mikey on the back of the head.

"Well you would." Mikey insisted, eyes kinda blown. Frank sighed and shook his head. Mikey's eyes widened a little as he realized what he'd slipped. Which wasn't that big of a deal because Cortez was the only one who didn't know...

"Frank?" Gerard asked quietly with a tilt of his head.

Cortez was still sipping straight coffee and stuck on the insult to his beloved pornos. "What makes you such a fucking expert, Iero?" Cortez wanted to know.

Frank swallowed..and gave Gerard, then Mikey, then Ray a look..because shit. "Just whatever. I'm gonna find my smokes." Frank muttered and left.

"Frank used to be a girl."

Frank hurried further out of earshot toward the back lounge of the bus because he just...fuck. He curled up on a ball on the corner of the couch mentally shredding himself for being such a fucking coward and letting Ray deal with Mikey and Gee setting Cortez straight on the facts of Frank anatomy. Jesus had he just done that? The agreeing to Cortez being told or letting Mikey and Gerard be the ones that.

"Hey"

Frank looked up. Ray was standing there, a little shocky and a lot confused and..."Awkward twenty questions version Ray." Frank swallowed, fighting down the terror that Ray was--

"You...really..."

"Yeah..."

"Not a trick rib--"

"Not a trick rib," Frank agreed putting every bit of resolve and stubbornness he had in not shaking.

"They're fighting you know."

"Who? Why?" Frank whispered almost terrified to get the answer.

"Gee and Mikey. Mikey said you had the nicest little tits, Gerard said he couldn't say that. Mikey said it was true, Gerard agreed they were really cute tits, and really fucking nice even if they were little but you were a guy so it was even more asshole to say that than if you were a girl. Cortez is stuck between them looking like he got stuck in the triple x-rated twilight zone."

Frank managed a strangled shaky little laugh, because if it wasn't so fucked up, and wasn't--possibly the end of the fucking world it would be funny. The Way brothers trying to figure out proper etiquette for...this. And Cortez (or, well, anyone half sane) stuck between them while they were arguing it and both of them still half fucked up from the night before. Actually Gee was getting to the point he was just varying degrees of buzzed to totally fucking trashed at all times, which was getting to be a huge and scary issue.

He should count himself lucky though. There had yet to be an Awkward Twenty Questions Version Mikey. Though Gerard made up for it at times but his out-of-the-blue give-Frank-a-heart attack questions were never asked in anyone's presence. Never asked until they had a motel night and they ended up rooming together, but to often. Gerard was sincere though, and so 'please don't fucking get pissed and kill me' awkward and just--curious. Even when the questions made Frank want to beat his head on the wall or shoot himself, or shake apart and scream and cry he didn't fucking know and he didn't want to have to fucking think about it he just wanted to fucking play his guitar, Frank answered. Because Gerard asked. And Gerard was seriously trying to be helpful, not meaning to hurt or make things worse or whatever. No different than his mom and Jamia's random "Frankie honey--" questions at times. Which he hated just as badly because he didn't---he didn't have the answers, he avoided trying to find the answers because he...he was just Frankie, just wanted to play his goddamn guitar and..it was just easier that way. Hide, ignore as much as he could get away with and just play.

"Yeah, pretty fucking surreal." Ray said in response to--Frank's laugh, or maybe just everything.

Frank nodded and sniffed. Oh fuck no no no. Not gonna fucking start blubbering. Jesus. He fumbled his hands over his pockets and found his cigarettes. He kinda wanted a drink but 3/5ths of their band was bound to be completely fucked up for tonight's show where ever it was, if they had a show...he was pretty sure they did. Wasn't fair to leave Ray the only vaguely together one on stage, even if Frank went insane on stage stone-cold sober it wasn't fair.

"How the hell did Mikey and Gerard ever end up having an opinion on--" Ray broke off and made a vague hand wavy gesture.

Ray, Gerard and Mikey were the biggest goobers, just complete hopeless fucking geeky nerds and Frank loved the hell out of them for it, because he could just be Frank and not think twice about much of anything, not worry if something he said or did was too girly or gay or whatever, most of the time they were more girly than he was anyway. There'd been moments in the past, times when Frank's act slipped and too much of Just-Frank got odd looks and..he'd really gotten to fucking love being able to just be himself without worry as much as playing the guitar.

"I had the plague, it was hard enough to breathe without the wraps and came out of the bathroom, t-shirt was--my long sleeved Yankees one? Mikey noticed, and was drunk enough to pull up my fucking shirt to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or some fucking thing." Frankie shrugged. "Too sick then and too chicken shit after" Frank added because it was pretty much guaranteed the next thing out of Ray's mouth would be something to the effect of "Why didn't you say anything" or say that it wasn't Mikey just being randomly weird and teasing about a spider that got him punched then.

"I am going to fucking kill you both," Cortez said coming into the back lounge. "Mikey's trying to figure out if you're a cross dressing lesbian or a straight man born without a dick. Gerard said you were a bisexual guitarist and just one of the guys like always."

"Go with Gerard's answer." Frank swallowed.

"Pelissier know?"

"Fuck no," Frank whispered blanching. "Four of you is it, Mikey blurted it at Brian but Brian dismissed it as drunk and spiders so...that doesn't quite count."

"Just the four of us?" Ray frowned looking really sad. "And you fucking think of breathing a word, Cortez.."

"Well, my mom and Jamia but that's it."

"Won't say anything, Frankie,"

Frank wanted to curl up further and scream, or tear his hair out as Mikey and Gerard ended up in the back lounge as well.

"So...you take hormones or somethin?"

Frank was startled by Ray's question. "No,"

"Well, you got a few--whiskers," Ray managed to get out. As if terrified pointing that out was going to get him in trouble one way or another

Frank. Well Frank wanted to SCREAM. But Jesus the few little hints of facial hair--like all four hairs at the corner of his upper lip-- that were just dark because, hello, Italian, black hair. And it was just easiest to ignore their existence.

"My mom had a fit when my sister waxed her lip." Ray blurted. "Cause it would grow back and be a bit more and she'd pretty much always have to-"

"Bleach or electrolysis." Gerard and Mikey said in almost unison, their mother was a hairdresser, so it probably wasn't that surprising but Jesus

"Start waxing or god forbid shaving have to keep it up," Gerard nodded.

"God forbid?" Frank gaped.

"Girls, not you." Gerard said hastily. "You could probably shave, it might do a little, maybe hair grow back darker, just enough to make it a bitch if you ever decided to dress in drag."

Ray started giggling, high and wild and a lot disbelieving that the conversation was even happening.

All Frank could think was he was the one that had panic attacks over running out or his stash of tampons being found by Pelissier and here were the guys were doing one helluva impression of girls at a slumber party or at least bathroom make-up tip swapping or something.

"We could totally help teach you how to shave." Gerard offered.

Frank raised his eyebrows.

"It's as much a bitch as shaving your legs in a different way, but helluva lot easier to reach, you'd catch on quick enough." Gerard said earnestly.

"When the fuck did you shave your legs? Either one of you?" Cortez stared. "Cause--you've supposedly got a dick, Gerard, and you've what? Gerard said you were like fourteen--"

"Catholic school. Uniforms, it was kind of required. I got in enough trouble and suspended enough times for fighting. Fuck I'd been expelled for unshaven legs if they'd thought they could get rid of me that way." Frank managed.

"I went to Art School, went to school in drag on a dare."

"Is your contract legal?" Matt frowned. "I mean--SHIT? Did you put your real name on it or--"

"F. A. Iero." Frank shrugged. "I don't know why that wouldn't be legal, how I fucking sign everything including my income taxes. My checks are cut to fucking F. A. Iero..."

"F?" Ray demanded with a panicked look

"Frances." Frank groaned. "And even when I was like freaking five in kindergarten the only one who got away with not calling me Frankie instead was my mother, and if she did call me Frances my ass was probably grass."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" Pelissier came on the bus disgruntled. Worm following behind with a glare.

"Mocking my name." Frank glared but thankful for the reprieve from twenty questions with the chaos over where the fuck Pelissier had been.

~*~

Ray was Ray. And Frank could have kissed him. Maybe it was repressing and not dealing with how fucked up his band was but he seemed to just push it all aside and forget it except for the odd staring moment. But mostly Ray was watching Gerard's ever increasing spiral, and Pelissier's ever increasing what the fuck ever it was. Mikey's random bursts of strange carrying along merrily apace with Gee's course of self destruction, and Mikey at least keeping up with Gerard in the booze department as well, and god help them it sure as fuck wasn't just booze for Gerard and that was scaring them all. Ray seemed to have decided worrying about Gerard was more important than wasting a thought on Frank's anatomy.

Cortez however, Frank was going. to. fucking. kill.

Cortez had somehow been mostly moved to their bus, which there was enough room and he was 'in the know' which was a plus, and with Gee, and Pelissier and even Mikey, an extra hand keeping things together for Ray and Frank but Jesus fuck Frank was going to kill him.

Cortez shut off the porn if Frank walked in the lounge when it was on the TV. If he was looking at a skin rag and Frank walked by it was kinda shoved behind him or in the sofa cushions or some fucking thing.

When Cortez wouldn't let Frank help with his own mother fucking equipment, Frank lost it and went at Cortez fists flying and beat the living fuck out of Cortez until, in desperation, Cortez started to fight back and landed a punch that knocked Frank off him and dazed Frankie pretty good. "FINALLY," Frank shouted. "This is getting FUCKING OLD."

"I think you fucking knocked my tooth loose, Iero," Cortez growled swiping blood with the back of his hand.

"Looks more like he broke your nose, Matt," Mikey said serenely, "You guys seen my hair straighteners? I looked everywhere on the bus."

"Look in Gee's bunk," Frank shrugged.

"WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Brian came barreling up with Worm and the sound guy, Bryar, who was eying the smaller amp that got kicked over in Frank and Cortez' fight.

"My hair straighteners are missing." Mikey said deadpanned. "It's tragic."

"Very tragic," Frank agreed shaking his head, struggling not to die laughing. Sometimes he just fucking loved Mikeyway, and right now was one of them because Frank really wanted to curl up in a ball and just fucking cry and Mikey.... How fucking stupid was he there were how many sets of eyes staring at the moment? Wondering why the fuck Frank took after Cortez and what was going on…The whole fucking crew was somewhere around getting shit set up....And the goddamned Mikeyway tragedy of missing hair straighteners in the midst of it all.

"End of the fucking world," Cortez agreed visibly struggling not to lose it as well.

"We'll find you another set of whatever the fuck, Mikey." Brian growled looking from Frank to Cortez and back again. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Cortez needed his fucking head removed from his ass." Frank grated out, shaking.

"Yeah, he did...but I--it really looks like you broke his nose doing it, Frank." Mikey said.

"Not broken," Cortez shook his head after prodding at his profusely bleeding nose a bit. "Close, but not broken"

Brian stared at the three of them. "Are you all fucking stoned?"

"No"

"Is this settled?"

Frank looked at Cortez, "Is it? I'm so going to fucking kill you if you don't get over the stupid shit."

"It's settled. It's settled" Cortez said quietly. "Sorry."

"What the--" Brian broke off. "Oh fuck..C'mon Gee, let's get some coffee in you" his attention soundly diverted by the staggering lead singer who at least showed up for sound check, which was more than could be said for the fucking drummer. All Pelissier could be counted on was to make curtain and bus call. That was fucking it. Sound checks, practice, band meetings, shit like that seemed below his notice.

Gerard pulled away from Brian, staggering and nearly landing flat, staggering more as he tried to right himself and falling straight over an amp.

"Fuck, Gee." Frank whispered.

"Told ya Frank was gonna kick your ass." Gerard said crawling-literally on all fours too fucked up to try to stand again-- over to sit by Frank.

"Yeah, he did, and you seriously need some coffee, dude," Cortez said.

"Gerard, you seen my hair straighteners."

"In my make-up bag, Mikes," Gerard slurred after a moment's thought.

Ray, who'd been working on getting his own equipment set, cracked first, laughing so hard he slid down against a stack of amps to the floor, tears in his eyes.

"FUCK YOU, TORO," Frank shouted and started laughing himself.

Cortez choked and started laughing as well, Gee's maniacal giggle carried through. Mikey pouted a second, then joined in. Brian shouting at them all, shaking his head and making dire threats about fucking shooting Pelissier.

~*~

Sound check was slow, feeding Gee coffee and Bryar pulling double duty with the sound board and drums. The show fucking sucked. Pelissier sucked and Gerard was a mess, Frank had a black eye and his hands, wrist and shoulder iced before he went on from beating Cortez, Toro was off and no one was happy with any part of it.

Cortez slung his arm around Frank's shoulder and told him to carry his own fucking shit, Mikey and Gerard leaned into each other and staggered to join the two, and no one watching could quite say if Mikey was a little looped too or just being carried along by Gerard's momentum. Toro declared they all gave him a fucking migraine and were going to drive him crazy.

Brian couldn't find himself to be too upset by the show. At least most of his band seemed to be back on an upswing. Pelissier was...yeah. The Diva shit was a bigger fucking problem than Gerard's habits at the moment.

~*~

They drew straws. Ray got Mikey, Brian ended up with Gee. Frank with Cortez and Pelissier with Worm. Which neither Pelissier or Worm were too fucking happy about. Two nights, two shows.

"Here Frank, found this, see if it works." Cortez said when Frank came out of the bathroom. "Those freaking Ace wraps fucking cut when the wriggle around and move. I've fucked up my ribs before to know that.".

It was an elastic back brace, one with three different Velcro clasps, one to close it and two to tighten it. An extra small at that.

"If you put it on backwards maybe? See if it works..."

Frank stared at it. "Is this an apology?"

"Yeah, I got you a some skin mags too. One with women and one with gay guys."

"Porno mags and a back brace..." Frank repeated. Cortez looked sheepish and worried. "That's probably the coolest apology I've ever gotten." Frank said softly with a shaky whisper. "Definitely the weirdest" he tried to grin. "But cool, really cool."

Relief crept over Cortez' face along with a slow smile that the strange offering was accepted how it was meant.

"If it works maybe can sew some hook and eye clasps--"

"Huh?" Cortez frowned.

"Like bra hooks--so the Velcro doesn't decide to wear out on stage or, in public or somethin."

"Them little fuckers can be a bitch, that would work." Cortez agreed.

"I'll try it in the morning." Frank said quietly, hands trembling just a little.

"Did I totally fuck up?" Cortez winced. "Like pointing out shit that, you don't want to..."

Frank shook his head. "I--"

Cortez looked at Frank worriedly.

Frank sighed. "You didn't fuck up, Matt, promise, it's cool. It really is. Don't get stupid because I don't think either one of us will be able to play if I have to beat sense into you again."

Cortez laughed weakly. "Probably not."

~*~

Frank woke up with the itch in the back of his throat, achy and headachy. The bit of a cold he'd been ignoring the last few days was trying to turn into bronchitis or the plague or something.

By the time they hit the stage that night he could taste it in the back of his throat, his lungs were itchy and starting to get bad, no hope this was going to turn into a day or two of really crappy rundown and nerved up bit of a fever and bit battered from the stage and lingering from beating Cortez two days before.

This was the fucking plague again. It was Ray who steered Frank off stage and propped him up until they got to the bus, basically the one who got Frankie into his bunk.

"C'mon, you've got clean shit, shirt off." Ray said quietly, Frank's red face wasn't quite all the coughing fit. Ray had two hoodies, one Frank's, one of Ray's.

"Lemme just curl up and die for the night?"

Ray wasn't having that. And pulled off Frank's sweat soaked tee and shoved the first hoodie over Frank's head. "Arms," Ray ordered.

Frank obediently put his arms through the sleeves.

"Brace off. Between your hoodie and mine--you need to breathe, Iero."

No the red on Frank's cheeks really wasn't all from the coughing fit, but he couldn’t' argue and reached up under the hoodie to undo the brace. Ray took the brace and shoved it under Frank's pillow. Ray's hoodie went on over Frank's. Ray bustled Frank into his bunk and basically tucked him in.

"SCORE! Brian found Nyquil and another couple braces during the show." Gerard said merrily as he entered the bunks area. The braces were shoved under Frank's bunk mattress and the Nyquil opened a few swallows poured down Frank.

~*~

Two nights later was another hotel night, and Ray carried Frank off stage when, for the second night in the row, he played sitting propped against Ray's leg. Hell, he'd finished the set laying on the goddamned stage.

"I got him," Ray said. "Swap?"

Mikey nodded wide eyed. "Me and Cortez can keep everyone back a bit."

Ray nodded and staggered a bit as Gerard stumbled into his side.

~*~

Ray steered a trying to protest Frank into the bathroom parking Frank on the toilet and started the taps on the bathtub.

"Ray," Frank managed to wheeze out shaking and worried.

Gerard stumbled into the bathroom, knocking the door open wide and nearly hitting Frank in the head with the doorknob.

Ray's eyes widened as Gerard dropped to his knees in front of Frank, carefully whispering. "Just us, Frankie, not gonna hurt you. Not gonna. Steam'll help. bath'll make you feel better, Frankie."

"Hey hey, you'd do the same for us." Gerard whispered as tears leaked down Frank's cheeks. "You have thrown me in the tub before, motherfucker."

"You stunk and you were drunk and had puke in your hair." Frank managed, barely, shaking well beyond the shivering fevered-chills he'd had all day.

"Shh," Gerard whispered. "Seen naked people before, isn't going to make a difference you're just Frank."

"Here--" Ray turned the bathroom light off, there was enough light from the room with the door open, which didn't help the steam factor too much, but Frank couldn't breathe for shit right now without hyperventilating with a panic attack or sobbing with a breakdown.

Frank was too sick to even begin to attempt to fight them. Bath did sound good, especially having access to one but managing one on his own wasn't happening either. He used everything he had laying on stage to finish the last three songs.

"Uh, Frank," Gerard said quietly. "Where's your stuff hid? Got a spot on your shorts--"

"Fuck," Frank nearly sobbed, wanting to crawl in a hole and die. Days and cities blended into each other to the point of being all but impossible to keep straight, but his body was predictable enough, signs easily recognizable enough that he wasn't caught by surprise, usually. This round of plague so complete in it's miserableness that the normal little warning twinges were drowned by it.

~*~

"I'm gonna get Brian, I think he needs a doctor." Gerard whispered, more sober than he had been in weeks. Frank was finally resting, sleeping, or maybe just passed out from sick and exhausted, propped up against a pile of pillows and Ray and bundled in a ton of blankets.

Ray nodded. Frank let them bathe, dress, put on vapor rub and put him to bed. Ray was pretty sure Frank needed a goddamned hospital by that fact alone, before the sound of his rattling labored breathing was even considered.

Gerard frowned. "Ray--don't, man, you--"

"Just worried about him," Ray said softly.

Gerard relaxed at the easy pronoun, not the least bit of tripping on it from Ray. "Me too. He's Frank, Ray"

Ray nodded. "Yeah, get Brian and a doctor. And send Cortez to get some more of his things, only a couple left and fuck knows if he's got more stashed anywhere. Rip the front of the box off so Cortez gets the right ones."

~*~

Gerard slipped into the room Cortez and Mikey were sharing only to find a pissed off Brian and put-upon Worm both there.

"How's Frank?" Brian asked.

"He needs a doctor, and uh, Matt? You want to see if you can find something open? He's about out." Gerard pulled the piece of the cardboard box from his pocket.

"Fuck on top of this shit? Poor bastard," Cortez shook his head.

"TAMPONS? Why the hell would Frank need tampons?" Brain gaped at the cardboard Cortez was holding.

"You didn't tell Brian?" Worm frowned.

"Tell me what?"

"He dismissed it as arachnophobia and wanted to know where Otter was." Mikey shrugged. "We did tell you. When Frank punched me and gave me that monster bruise on my jaw like last year? We told you he was a girl."

"Frank's not a girl." Gerard said. "Just lacking in male anatomy."

"That doesn't sound any better." Mikey countered.

"Whatever the fuck. He's Frank." Gerard glared at his brother. "He's sick, he needs a doctor, and he's about out of those and needs them to like now not next week."

"YOU KNEW?" Brian shouted.

"Pulled him down off some shit once and he was wearing just a couple layers of hoodies, I was pretty sure what I felt, been careful only to grab Frank by the waist when I have to pull him out of shit since." Worm shrugged. "So you all know?"

Gerard shook his head and swallowed. "Otter doesn't and--don't think it would go over so well if he did. Frank's scared to let him know and it's Frank's business."

"Iero doesn't spook over much," Worm said with a frown and a nod of agreement after a moment. "Uh--Frank Anthony?"

"Frances Antonia on his birth certificate," Gerard said quietly. "And he signs his shit FA Iero when it's business we already had that freak out."

"Think he'd kill me if I got him a candy bar?" Cortez asked.

"This is Frank. Probably." Gerard snorted. "Especially if it's you after your stupid shit with your porn. We're going to have enough of a fight because you're playing in his place tomorrow night, whether he likes it or not. Don't make it worse with a candy bar."

"Okay, I'll be back as quick as I can be." Cortez nodded ducking out of the room.

"You guys are supposed to tell me this shit," Brian managed to get out evenly through gritted teeth.

"We did." Mikey said.

"Yeah, we did." Gerard agreed. "All you had to say you were going to kill the three of us if we were fucking--which gross, there are certain things I will not share with Mikey, my toothbrush, my underwear, and whoever I'm sleeping with-anything else is free game but just no."

"Cool, I can't find my eyeliner. And your underwear is gross and would fall off me anyway."

"Well it was FRANK. Now if you'd said you or Mikey were a girl I mighta stopped and demanded some clarification," Brian managed to splutter.

~*~

"Do I have to beat you too?" Frank asked Ray miserably three weeks later sitting down next to Ray in the back lounge of the bus.

"No, Frankie," Ray shook his head. "Otter?"

"Is getting drunk up front. Cortez got a new video, this one's actually half decent."

Ray shook his head with a smile and just a bit of a blush.

"I--" Frank swallowed.

Ray shook his head. "I'm...fine, Frankie." Ray said quietly. "Just tryin' to--sort things out."

Frank snorted bitterly.

"Not--Jesus, Frank." Ray swallowed. "I'm not like avoiding you because I'm freaked or whatever."

"Yeah, how you've been acting, really says that."

"You're--okay I get you--don't like--ignore--I mean, I know you're Frank okay--but you're fucking beautiful too. And--"

"I'm not," Frank shook his head whispering horrified. "You're completely straight and I'm not--" a girl. Oh god fuck...

"I know," Ray said quietly. "And even if you weren't you, you were so fucking sick I really shouldn't've noticed, didn't want to notice."

"You're straight, Ray. You noticed--" Frank said flatly.

"I'm human and you're gorgeous, hell, so's Gerard. I'm not blind or stupid even if I don't swing that way. Knew that even before I knew..."

"Doesn't change--"

"I know." Ray said quietly. "That's not--just--"

"What?"

Ray groaned and slumped forward hiding his face in his hands for a moment.

"I'm--I'd be like this even, still be me, if I was out on stage in a bustier and fucking fishnets or something. I'm--"

"I know." Ray said. "And I'd probably be scared to death of you in that case. I usually make an ass of myself talking to girls."

Frank swallowed. "The fuck, Ray?"

"You were scared of us, Frank. Fucking scared--of me and Gerard. Like it was flashing through your head if we saw you naked we'd try something or hate you or fuck I don't know what. Me. And Gerard. Fuck, Frankie...And you're beautiful, and I can't begin to imagine hating being in your own skin so much that--and that you've had enough shit that you were fucking scared of us, even if it was just for a few seconds it was..."

"Don't you dare fucking pity me, Toro," Frank hissed.

"I don't," Ray said looking up and meeting Frank's eyes. "Kinda want to kill something that you were fucking scared of us. Really want to beat my head through a wall for noticing bullshit."

"Bullshit?" Frank blinked.

"You're Frank. I'd be having as much of a wanting to bash my head through the wall if I noticed Gerard or Mikey or something."

"Otter"

"I'd shoot myself," Ray snorted.

Frank choked. "Think I would too."

"And the rest of us?"

"I'm not blind." Frank said blushing just a little. "But you're you guys, and this is...my fuckin dream," he waved vaguely toward the front of the bus and Ray's guitar.

Ray still looked weird, sad, hurt and weird and, "You're making my fucking head hurt, Toro," Frank muttered.

"I'm making my head hurt." Ray agreed.

"So stop it?"

"You were scared of us...that's what--" someone so beautiful shouldn't be so fucked up in their own skin, shouldn't have to be hurt and fucked up to the point they get scared of friends just for being their self. Saying that would probably get his nose broke.

"Reflex, not you," Frank tried.

"That, kinda makes it worse," Ray snorted.

"You don't hate me or aren't freaking that I'm going to fuck this up just because--"

"NO," Ray said. "Fucking hate the world a whole lot right now, but not you."

Frank stared at Ray baffled. "Hate the world?"

"That one of my best friends, can't fucking be himself without being terrifed..that he's scared of us when we take care of him when he's sick just like we'd do for any of the others if they needed it--and you know damn well we've all forced Gerard into the shower, hell, he wasn't even conscious when Brian and I wrestled him into the shower the other day. Get him sobered up and conscious enough for the show...If anything fucks us it's Gerard or Otter--one or the other, matter of which first I think. I'm...fucked off at the world, want to just beat Gerard because...damn, and you--were fucking scared of us on top of everything. Yeah, hate the fucking world and kinda fucked up in the head at the moment but I've been staying away because I'm not going to fuck you up with my shit okay?"

"That plan? Kinda sucked..."

"Yeah, sorry." Ray murmured.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The longest flight of Frank's life is the flight home to Jersey (well, La Guardia) from Japan. Ray at least was back to being mostly not weird with him. Pelissier quit before they could actually kick him out. Gerard was hitting withdrawals brutally before the flight was even off the goddamned ground.

Brian was half way to a nervous breakdown over everything. They don't have a drummer. The lead singer is attempting self-rehab. Mikey's alternating between terrified, overly helpful to Gerard nearly wanting to kill him or hair's breadth from having his own nervous breakdown.

"Don't even look at Frank." Ray growled.

"Why the hell would I look at Frank? What's he done?" Brian frowned confused. Ray glared. Brian snorted. "Aw hell, he's nothing. Fucking groundbreaking and inspirational or whatever if it ever came to having to spin the shit on that." Brian shrugged. Be a fuck of a lot more headache than that especially with the record company suits but shit that was borrowing trouble. Frank was Frank and what was actually wrong took precedence.

Frank glared. "I. am. not."

"No, you're not, you're just Frank the fucking lunatic on stage, but if we have to, we have to, and if we don't, we fucking forget about it. We already have to replace a drummer and straighten out Gerard. Just don't fucking get pregnant or something if you ever do a guy."

"I'll be sure to top with a strap on if I do." Frank muttered darkly through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, do that."

~*~

"C'mon no one's expecting us back til tomorrow. Ray's got Mikey," Matt said catching Frank as they're all staggering through La Guardia. It's three in the fucking morning. And Frank's about as close to shattering as Gerard, who they (Brian and Worm) are taking wherever...

"Cortez."

"Shut up and let's go."

~*~

Morning, or maybe noon, found Frank completely fucking hammered like he hasn't been in ages, because it just wasn’t safe, not smart, one slip and so much could be fucked up. Someone makes a grab and get what they're not expecting...just fuck. That and he tends to get horny as hell when he's drinking, and that really opens up a can of worms that can be all sorts of fucking trouble.

The porn on the laptop isn't helping that either. Cortez actually found some decent shit in Europe. Would wonders ever cease?

"Your taste is improving." Frank decided.

"I had a girlfriend that wanted to do that once..."

"You had a girlfriend? Other than your hand and your mistress the porn collection?"

"Ha fuckin' ha, Iero. You're an asshole."

"Okay you had a girlfriend who wanted to play with your ass, and use a few toys, so? It's shocking you found a kinda kinky woman? What?"

"Never let her."

Frank shrugged.

"Your girlfriend--"

"Is my best friend, and also a lesbian, so obviously not my girlfriend, even if I'll probably beg for sex when I get home cause it's been for fucking ever and I did not just say that."

"You totally did...Fuck that's hot..." Cortez groaned. "Aw fuck it, eyes on the screen," Cortez muttered and slipped his hand down the front of the sweats he'd changed into. Bars hadn't been open and Frank refused to have more than one or two drinks when in public so booze, hotel room, and with lack of anything on TV, porn DVD on Frank's new laptop.

"I fucking hate you," Frank grumbled. The booze and yeah this was actually good porn. And things had been so fucked up and a hitting borderline insomniac Ray for a roommate most of the last leg.

"Oh like I fucking care if you jack off." Cortez groaned.

Frank's hand trembled just a little as it slid into his own sweats but Cortez' eyes didn't stray off the screen and he was just drunk and horny enough to not quite care.

~*~

Frank woke up with Cortez half on top of him, the laptop sitting in one piece and off on the nightstand though Frank doesn't really remember moving that, and the little clock with glowing numbers claimed it was 10, judging by the pitch dark other than the little reading light on the desk and the bathroom light 10pm.

"Move, asshole, I gotta piss," Frank muttered shoving at Matt.

Matt rolled away with a sharp breath "Ow"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Hangover?"

"Hair stuck." Matt snorted.

Frank rolled his eyes and headed for the bathroom.

"We gonna head home?"

"I gotta call around and see if I can find a place to crash til we know what's up."

Frank cocked his head a moment. "Uh huh. You got a place to crash, Cortez. God you're a dumb ass, you know that? All you had to do is say you needed.."

"I was going to hit up Brian for a bit of floor for a few days til I could figure something out and we had half a clue what was going on. You... you sure you want me there?"

"About the only thing different is I don't usually sleep in the brace at home--you know. I mean it's not going to be some drastic disaster or some goddamn thing if you see old pictures of me. Just keep the porn in my room and outta Jamia's sight cause she'll have a fucking hissy and you'll have to crash in with me cause I can't fucking sleep on our little bitty couch let alone anyone who isn't like a midget."

Matt bit his lip. "Okay for a few days, you want me gone, say so okay?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "Let's get goin? James'll probably try and kill us when we get in the door but I wanna go home."


~*~*~

Jamia jumped out of her bedroom with a baseball bat. Frank managed to shove Matt and duck.

"FUCK JAMES ITS ME!"

"Frankie?"

"Yes."

The light went on.

"Why is your guitar tech on the floor?"

"Because you woulda broke his arm with the bat if I didn't shove him there. He followed me home, can I keep him? Pretty please?"

"You will feed him. Clean up after him. If he whines and howls all night you'll both be beat and if he pisses on the furniture or ruins my shoes you're both dead. Understood."

"I love you, James," Frank grinned.

"uhm, woof?" Matt choked. Christ she was as nuts as Frank.

Frank lost it giggling. Jamia giggled along with him.

Matt stared, trying to think if he'd seen Frank look so relaxed ever? The smile was impossible to stop. Relaxed looked good on Frankie.

"Frankie?" Jamia asked softly moving to hug him.

"Just good to be home, James,"

They were...fucking adorable together. She was even tinier than Frank, not by much but a bit, an inch or two shorter and delicate seeming, seeming this was the woman with the baseball bat after all, who Frank was half scared of and seemed half worship.

"Uh Frank--"

"S'okay, Jamia."

"So?"

"Oh fuck you."

"You wish"

"Hell yes."

She snorted. “Call your mother or she’ll kill all of us.”

Despite the fact it was the middle of the night Frank headed to the phone. "Mom? Yeah, it's just me, no nothin's wrong. I'm home. Yeah, yeah, sorry, of course I will. Yeah, uh, James? Matt? Dinner tonight?"

"I'm not missing out on your mother's cooking." Jamia grinned.

"Matt? No not Pelissier, Ma, Fuck no. Yes, I'll watch my language, sorry. But no, Matt Cortez. He's one of the techs, my tech actually. No, no mom it's cool. MOM! I'll call ya when I get back up. Try and get a bit of sleep and get on Jersey time... seriously mom, yeah yeah, I'll tell ya when I talk to you in a few hours but its...Cortez here, Worm who's our main security, Brian, Gerard, Mikey and Ray all know...oh hell no. It's okay mom, promise. Okay...yeah cause you'd worry and fuss and drive you and Jamia both nuts. Matt? You want to come too?"

Matt shrugged and looked at Frank because if it was going to be trouble or if Frank just wanted his mom to himself.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Yeah, ma, the three of us'll be there. Love you too. See you later."

"Frank. Anthony. Iero."

"What?"

"WHAT?" Jamia shouted and slapped at Frank's arm. "They know?"

"I wouldn't've brought Matt home if he didn't--and yeah. Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Brian and Worm do too."

Jamia nodded. "You are so not getting out of a long talk, mister."

"As long as I can postpone it? Jet lag and a hangover ..."

Jamia laughed and hugged Frank. "I've got work in the morning anyway. If your butt isn't outta bed by four when I get home I'm gonna drag it out of bed."

"Deal." Frank grinned and kissed her cheek. "Night, Jamia"

"Night, Frank, nice to meet you, Matt"

~*~

continued